Changing Constantinou's Game by Jennifer Hayward - Changing Constantinou's Game

Author:Jennifer Hayward - Changing Constantinou's Game [Hayward, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780263908961
Google: kB2koAEACAAJ
Amazon: 0373132778
Barnesnoble: 0373132778
Goodreads: 21471434
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-08-18T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

THIRTY LAPS OF his fifty-metre pool was generally pretty cathartic for Alex. But after spending the last twenty-four hours ruminating over yesterday’s conversation with Izzie and facing demons he’d thought long ago put to bed, it wasn’t having the desired effect.

Biceps crying out from the vicious workout, he stepped out of the shower, toweled himself off and stalked into the bedroom where he rifled through his closet for his tuxedo shirt. He should have listened to his instincts and never agreed to do the interview. Because those questions Izzie had asked yesterday, the pieces of his past she was digging up, were nobody’s business but his own. She and James Curry were clearly taking this interview in a whole different direction from what they’d agreed upon, and the private life he’d guarded so closely for so long was in danger of being blown wide open by a woman he had severely conflicting feelings about.

He jammed his hand against the closet door, dropped his head and let out a string of curses. How had Izzie found out about the illegal painkillers? The only person who knew he’d taken them was his former teammate, Xavier Jones. And Xavier wouldn’t have talked to a reporter. No way.

But then again, he thought, agitation rocketing through him, what did it really matter now? His football career was history. He’d paid for his mistake in the worst way possible. And he’d moved on. He didn’t need football anymore.

So why did he feel gutted? As if someone had sliced him wide open? Because the only thing worse than reliving it all over, a little voice in his head said, would be to be made into a pity party all over again. To have the whole world know his shame. He’d worked too hard building Sophoros into an international powerhouse to let the media make a tragedy of him a second time. To overshadow everything he’d done since.

He would not let it happen. Could not.

He yanked his shirt out of the closet, found some boxers, and pulled them on. He would do exactly as he’d said. He’d do this interview, he’d draw the lines, then he’d never talk about it again. No one could prove anything. And as for Izzie? He grimaced as he did up the finicky little pearl buttons on the shirt. He was at a loss. Ever since she’d walked into his life, she’d been driving him slowly, surely mad. And it wasn’t getting any better. When he should be thinking about Frank Messer and the case his lawyers were mounting against him, he was wondering instead how to get her into bed. How to satisfy the craving in him that ached for another taste of her.

His shirt finally done up, he located his tuxedo trousers, pulled them on and went searching for his bow tie. He should hate Izzie for setting him up. For digging into his painful past. But the satisfaction of harboring that against her was being called into question after the conversation he’d had with Laura Reed this morning.

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